[Reprinted  from  The  Popular  Science  Monthly,  June,  1910.] 


THE  CASE  OP  HARVARD  COLLEGE1  „ 

■ a 

By  Professor  J.  McKEEN  CATTELL 

COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY 


Library 


rpHE  free  elective  system,  three  years  of  college  in  preparation  for 
the  professional  school,  personal  freedom  for  the  student,  these 
are  tenets  that  Harvard  has  made  familiar  to  us  all.  But  the  pendulum 
now  swings  backward.  It  is  already  decided  . that  the  work  of  the 
student  is  to  be  concentrated  and  dispersed  by  faculty  decree;  that 
preparatory  schools  are  to  be  established  for  freshmen.  We  are  told 
that  the  four-year  college  course  should  not  be  shortened,  that  “ every 
college  graduate  ought  to  be  equipped  to  enter  any  professional  school  ” 
and  that  “ the  professional  schools  ought  to  be  so  ordered  that  they  are 
adapted  to  receive  him.”  “ College  students  are  amateurs,  not  profes- 
sionals ” ; they  should  study  “ a little  of  everything,”  and  though  each 
should  also  have  “ a firm  grasp  of  some  subject,”  it  should  lie  “ out- 
side of  his  vocation.”  “ The  college  may  be  regarded  as  the  last  period 
of  play.” 

The  scheme  on  which  the  president,  fellows,  overseers  and  faculty 
of  arts  and  sciences  of  Harvard  University  have  united  has  one  merit; 
they  announce  that  they  do  not  intend  to  enforce  it.  Compulsory  con- 
centration is  useless  and  compulsory  dispersion  is  bad.  Neither  good 
students  nor  those  who  do  not  want  to  study  will  be  helped.  Any  such 
scheme  breaks  down  under  the  load  of  its  artificiality.  The  field  of 
knowledge  is  divided  into  four  divisions  for  purposes  of  dispersion,  but 
no  faculty  can  put  asunder  what  God  has  joined  together.  According 
to  his  interests  and  needs  the  student  may  find  his  concentration  scat- 
tered through  the  four  divisions  and  his  dispersion  within  a single 
department,  as  well  as  the  reverse.  In  my  own  subject  he  can  find 
boundless  dispersion — witness  the  fields  tilled  at  Harvard  by  Pro- 
fessors James,  Mlinsterberg,  Royce,  Palmer,  Santayana  and  Yerkes — 
or  he  can  choose  a unified  and  consistent  course  by  innumerable  com- 
binations of  studies. 

Ten  years  ago  a committee  from  the  Harvard  department  of  edu- 
cation made  a detailed  study  of  the  programs  of  study  of  372  mem- 
bers of  the  class  of  1901.  It  was  concluded  thatjmly  7.8  per  cent,  ap- 
peared open  to  the  charge  of  undue  specialization,  of  whom  one  third 

1An  address  read  after  the  annual  dinner  of  the  Harvard  Teachers’  Asso- 
ciation in  the  Harvard  Union  on  March  12,  1910. 


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THE  POPULAR  SCIENCE  MONTHLY 


specialized  in  history  and  political  science  preparatory  to  the  study  of 
law.  Only  4.5  per  cent,  seemed  to  show  a lack  of  proper  concentra- 
tion of  energy,  and  of  these  one  sixth  received  the  A.B.  magna  cum 
laude.  But  circumstances  alter  cases.  We  are  now  told  that  more  than 
half  the  students  concentrate  too  much  or  too  little.  It  is  said  that 
only  one  seventh  of  the  students  graduating  from  the  law  school  cum 
laude  concentrated  too  little  in  college,  whereas  the  medical  students 
did  not  concentrate  nearly  so  much.  It  is  not  likely  that  medical 
students  are  inclined  to  specialize  less  than  law  students.  The  fact  is 
that  Harvard  College  provides  the  courses  in  English,  history  and 
political  science  needed  by  students  of  law  and  does  not  provide  the 
courses  in  anatomy,  physiology  and  pathology  needed  by  students  of 
medicine.2  Instead  of  requiring  students  preparing  for  the  medical 
school  to  take  courses  which  they  do  not  want,  the  college  should 
offer  the  courses  which  they  need. 

The  free  elective  system  may  be  a partial  failure;  but  it  is  doubt- 
ful whether,  apart  from  the  professional  school,  a better  plan  has  been 
devised.  The  group  system  is  better  in  so  far  as  it  is  a professional 
school  within  the  college;  it  is  no  better  as  a factory  for  the  manu- 
facture of  cultivated  gentlemen.  Sequences  and  combinations  of 
studies  in  the  college  should  be  planned  which  give  adequate  prepara- 
tion for  different  kinds  of  work  in  life,  not  only  for  the  orthodox  and 
semi-orthodox  professions,  but  also  for  business  and  affairs,  and  for 
such  special  performances  as  those  of  the  Sanskrit  scholar,  the  psycho- 
logical expert  or  the  economic  entomologist.  The  courses  should  be 
planned  by  those  engaged  in  these  callings,  rather  than  by  a college 
faculty,  and  they  should  be  elected  by  the  student  after  proper  coun- 
sel, rather  than  forced  upon  him. 

The  boy  of  eighteen  or  nineteen  either  should  know  what  he  is 
going  to  do  in  life  and  give  at  least  part  of  his  time  to  direct  prepara- 
tion, or  he  should  have  a working  hypothesis.  The  professions  differ 
in  their  demands.  Medicine  and  engineering  require  manual  dexterity 
and  much  special  information;  they  should  be  begun  in  good  season. 
Law  and  theology  are  less  exacting  of  special  training;  a medical  or 
engineering  course  would  not  be  a bad  preparation  for  the  bar  or  the 
church,  but  the  converse  is  not  true.  A lawyer  who  becomes  a univer- 
sity president  may  not  unnaturally  fancy  that  the  preparation  suited 
to  a lawyer  would  also  be  fit  for  the  physician  or  engineer.  But  when 
he  says: 

Many  professors  of  medicine,  on  the  other  hand,  feel  strongly  that  a student 
should  enter  their  schools  with  at  least  a rudimentary  knowledge  of  those 

3 President  Lowell  in  reply  said  that  the  study  of  Latin  is  the  best  prepara- 
tion for  a scientific  career,  but  that  the  proper  preparation  for  the  profession  of 
law  is  learning  to  reason.  If  the  lawyer  can  be  taught  to  reason,  there  is 
certainly  a valid  argument  for  that  much  compulsion  in  college. 


THE  CASE  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


606 


sciences,  like  chemistry,  biology  and  physiology,  that  are  interwoven  with 
medical  studies;  and  they  appear  to  attach  greater  weight  to  this  than  to  his 
natural  capacity  or  general  attainments, 

one  wonders  where  those  professors  of  medicine  are  who  attach  greater 
weight  to  rudimentary  knowledge  of  certain  sciences  than  to  natural 
capacity,  and  whether  any  one  holds  that  that  natural  capacity  pre- 
cludes scientific  training  or  conversely. 

The  special  training  of  a group  or  professional  course  is  not  its 
only  advantage.  An  expert  Sanskrit  scholar  is  better  fitted  to  become 
an  entomologist  than  an  amateur  who  has  studied  a little  of  everything. 
Any  kind  of  an  apperceptive  mass — to  use  the  slang  of  psychology — is 
better  than  none  at  all.  The  Columbia  College  faculty  in  requiring 
every  freshman  to  take  six  or  seven  studies  unrelated  to  one  another  and 
largely  unrelated  to  his  past  or  future  work  prescribes  a method  which 
not  one  member  of  the  faculty  would  be  so  foolish  as  to  adopt  in  his 
own  work.  The  collective  unwisdom  of  a college  faculty  is  not  often 
exceeded  by  an  undergraduate  student.  Nor,  it  may  be  added,  is  the 
skill  of  a faculty  in  devising  restrictive  regulations  equal  to  the  inge- 
nuity of  the  student  in  dodging  them.  As  Mr.  Eliot  has  recently  said, 
while  the  word  “must”  may  be  heard  hereafter  more  frequently  at 
Cambridge,  “ I feel  a very  strong  confidence  in  the  ability  of  the 
youths  that  come  to  Harvard  College  to  take  that  word  with  apparent 
submissiveness,  but  without  allowing  it  to  have  any  inconvenient  effects 
on  the  individual.” 

It  is  doubtless  true  that  students  should  not  spend  four  years  in  elect- 
ing elementary  courses;  it  is  well  to  persuade  them  and  it  may  be  de- 
sirable to  compel  them  to  do  a certain  amount  of  consistent  work  in 
some  direction.  The  problem  is  largely  social  rather  than  educational ; 
it  is  not  serious  in  the  colleges  of  the  great  state  universities.  They 
have  all  sorts  of  programs  and  curriculums;  but  as  a rule  the  student 
does  his  work  because  it  is  of  concern  to  him.  He  has  a major  sub- 
ject; he  has  already  begun,  or  will  take  up  in  a year  or  two,  agricul- 
ture, medicine,  engineering  or  some  other  life  work,  and  in  the  mean- 
while he  is  preparing  for  it.  The  air  of  the  place  is  saturated  with 
honest  work.  If  these  young  men  and  women  are  crude,  it  is  because 
their  homes  are  but  a generation  from  the  frontier,  not  because  their 
work  in  college  is  real.  They  not  only  learn  more,  but  make  more 
progress  in  polite  manners  and  broadening  interests  than  do  the  bovs 
in  the  colleges  of  the  Atlantic  seaboard. 

Before  the  section  of  education  of  the  American  Association  for 
the  Advancement  of  Science  a year  ago,  addresses  were  made  by  Pro- 
fessor Eoyce  and  Professor  Tufts  on  “ The  American  College  and 
Life,”  which  emphasized  the  need  of  giving  reality  to  the  work  of  col- 
lege students  by  breaking  down  the  artificial  barriers  between  culture 


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THE  POPULAR  SCIENCE  MONTHLY 


and  professional  work.  Professor  Tnfts  discussed  the  importance  of  a 
“ reconstruction  of  the  college  ideal  of  liberal  culture  ...  by  a greater 
introduction  of  the  vocational  element  and  spirit  into  college  work.” 
Professor  Royce  said: 

Let  us  seek  to  assimilate  college  work  more  ratlier  than  less  to  that  sort 
and  grade  of  professional  work  which  calls  out  a young  man’s  energies  just 
because  he  feels  that  in  such  work  something  is  at  stake  that  is,  for  him,  per- 
sonally momentous.  . . . Let  us  beware  of  those  theorists  who,  in  the  name  of 
what  they  call  the  American  college,  want  to  sunder  afresh  what  the  whole 
course  of  our  modern  American  development  has  wisely  tended  to  join,  namely, 
teaching  and  investigation,  the  more  technical  training  and  the  more  general 
cultivation  of  our  youth,  as  well  as  the  graduate  and  the  undergraduate  types 
of  study.  I should  abhor  the  name  college  if  this  mere  name  ever  led  us  into 
such  a backward  course  as  some  are  now  advocating. 

Our  ideas  of  culture  are  inherited,  primitive  and  conventional. 
There  is  a hierarchy  of  those  who  wear  celluloid  collars,  those  with 
linen  collars  and  those  with  non-detachable  collars.  Each  class  looks 
down  on  that  below  it;  but  scarcely  considers  what  the  wearing  of  a 
collar  symbolizes.  He  carries  a non-detachable  collar  who  believes  that 
American  college  students  must  be  forced  “ to  study  a little  of  every- 
thing, for  if  not  there  is  no  certainty  that  they  will  be  broadly  culti- 
vated.” There  are  various  kinds  of  culture  nowadays — microbes 
propagating  in  gelatine,  turnips  with  twenty  tons  of  manure  to  the 
acre,  and  boys  at  Harvard  studying  a little  of  everything. 

As  a matter  of  fact,  boys  at  Harvard  may  be  compelled  to  take  all 
sorts  of  courses  and  even  to  be  coached  for  examinations  on  them,  but 
they  do  not  of  necessity  study  at  all.  They  react  normally  to  the  futil- 
ity of  the  scheme.  There  are  many  kinds  of  boys  in  a college  commun- 
ity— grinds  and  sports,  scholars  and  entrepreneurs.  One  difficulty  is 
that  they  divide  themselves  into  social  cliques  when  they  ought  to  mix, 
and  are  mixed  in  the  courses  when  they  ought  to  be  grouped  with 
reference  to  their  abilities,  interests  and  future  work. 

The  years  from  eighteen  to  twenty-five  are  precious  beyond  all 
measure.  A boy  of  eighteen  is  the  rawest  of  material;  within  seven 
years  the  pig-iron  must  become  steel  and  the  blade  must  get  its  finest 
edge  or  it  will  never  cut  deep.  But  we  bookmen  must  remember  that 
words  and  books  and  scholarship  are  not  the  only  things  in  the  world. 
The  pen  may  be  mightier  than  the  sword,  but  it  is  feeble  beside  the 
workman’s  tool.  An  Achilles  who  has  no  Homer  is  not  therefore  less 
great.  We  who  talk  and  write  have  undue  opportunity  to  exploit  our 
own  trade.  If  we  expect  others  to  respect  our  scholarship,  we  should 
in  turn  honor  their  performances.  The  fundamental  fault  of  our 
whole  educational  system  is  that  we  try  to  train  to  superficial  scholar- 
ship and  conventional  culture  those  who  should  be  learning  to  do  their 
share  of  the  world’s  work. 


THE  CASE  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


608 


The  traditions  of  scholarship  attaching  to  the  college  are  indeed 
somewhat  threadbare.  From  the  monastery,  by  way  of  Oxford  and 
Cambridge,  came  the  American  college.  So  long  as  it  was  controlled 
by  the  clergy  for  the  education  of  the  clergy  and  the  church  was  a real 
part  of  the  life  of  the  people,  the  college  was  vital,  as  are  to-day  the 
schools  of  medicine,  engineering  and  law.  When  intending  lawyers 
and  teachers — concerned  like  the  clergymen  with  words,  books  and 
traditions — became  a large  element  among  college  students  the  schol- 
astic curriculum  was  not  inept.  Six  or  eight  years’  study  of  the  ele- 
ments of  the  classical  languages — scarcely  ever  reaching  so  far  as 
reading  them  with  ease  or  writing  them  with  correctness — did  not 
accomplish  so  very  much  in  the  way  of  broadening  interests  and  en- 
larging sympathies,  but  it  gave  a good  drill  and  a common  stock  of 
knowledge  and  quotations,  which  made  for  the  social  homogeneity  of  a 
class.  Poetry  and  art  have  so  completely  based  themselves  on  the 
classical  and  biblical  traditions  that  they  are  in  danger  of  waning 
together. 

Science  has  in  the  course  of  the  past  century  caused  a revolution  in 
human  life.  Its  applications  have  made  democracy  and  universal  edu- 
cation possible  by  enabling  one  man  to  do  what  formerly  required  ten. 
Science  has  created  new  professions  and  has  at  the  same  time  provided 
the  economic  conditions  which  permit  large  numbers  to  follow  them 
and  to  undergo  a long  period  of  unproductive  apprenticeship.  The 
same  economic  conditions  have  permitted  the  wealthy  and  potentially 
idle  classes  to  increase  to  a vast  horde  largely  lacking  the  traditions  of 
an  aristocracy.  The  lower  death  rate  due  to  science  is  followed  by  a 
lower  birth  rate.  Women  partly  freed  from  manual  work  and  child- 
bearing can  be  idle,  go  to  college  or  engage  in  sedentary  occupations. 
Then  science  has  directly  reformed  our  educational  system  by  the  new 
material  which  it  has  supplied  and  by  the  new  method  which  it  has 
made  supreme. 

The  English  and  American  colleges  have  but  partially  and  imper- 
fectly adjusted  themselves  to  this  new  life.  The  ghost  of  the  obsoles- 
cent scholastic  system  still  hovers  about  the  place;  it  is  still  haunted 
by  the  phantom  of  the  gentleman  who  hunts  over  his  country  estate 
and  drinks  two  bottles  of  wine  for  dinner,  but  whose  son  may  become 
a curate  or  the  proconsul  of  an  empire.  Oxford  and  Cambridge  have, 
as  a matter  of  fact,  more  nearly  fitted  themselves  to  the  conditions  of 
British  society  than  have  our  seaboard  colleges  to  American  democracy. 
The  B.A.  may  mean  little  more  than  a public-school  education  and 
three  six -months  of  residence  at  the  university,  but  the  young  men  have 
on  the  whole  a high  sense  of  honor  and  duty,  of  traditions  to  be  main- 
tained. In  addition  to  the  poll  men,  there  are  honor  courses  at  the 
universities  which  are  strictly  special  and  professional — preparatory  to 


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THE  POPULAR  SCIENCE  MONTHLY 


medicine,  law,  politics,  etc.,  or  giving  expert  training  in  subjects  such 
as  the  biological  sciences  or  the  classics.  A student  may  devote  three 
years  to  exclusive  and  intensive  work  in  mathematics;  and  the  training 
has  proved  excellent,  having  produced  not  only  many  of  the  ablest 
mathematicians  of  the  last  century,  but  great  men  in  all  departments 
of  activity.  The  English  system  of  public  schools  and  scholarships 
selects  for  the  universities  a large  share  of  the  ablest  and  most  earnest 
young  men  of  the  country;  Oxford  and  Cambridge  have  continuously 
sent  forth  their  men  to  lead  the  nation.  None  the  less  it  is  true  that 
in  numbers,  in  resources  and  in  educational  methods  they  have  remained 
nearly  stationary,  while  the  great  movement  in  higher  education  in 
England  has  been  the  establishment  and  growth  of  the  metropolitan 
and  provincial  universities.  These  are  essentially  trade  schools,  similar 
to  our  own  state  universities,  and  having  but  little  in  common  with  our 
country  clubs  of  the  North  Atlantic  states. 

It  is  not  desirable  to  support  at  public  expense  certain  country  clubs 
or  detention  hospitals  in  which  rich  boys  may  be  segregated.  The  idle 
rich  and  the  lazy  poor  we  have  with  us  always  and  everywhere.  Colleges 
only  contribute  their  share  to  the  failure  to  solve  a problem  at  present 
insoluble.  It  may  be  that  these  rich  boys  cost  society  more  than  they 
are  worth ; it  may  be  that  their  value  is  a minus  quantity.  They  will, 
however,  occupy  a far  more  important  place  in  society  than  others. 
From  the  vast  numbers  born  in  the  cottage,  there  are  a few  who  grasp 
“ the  skirts  of  happy  chance  ” and  live  to  shape  a “ state’s  decrees,”  but 
in  the  main  those  who  eat  at  the  high  table  of  the  palace  are  born  there 
or  in  its  dependencies.  Thanks  to  heredity  and  opportunity  combined, 
there  are  more  dominant  personalities,  such  as  Mr.  Theodore  Roosevelt, 
Mr.  Pierpont  Morgan  and  Mr.  Lawrence  Lowell,  from  this  small  upper 
class  than  from  the  working  millions.  Whether  or  not  we  should  be 
better  of!  without  such  men  is  not  the  question.  Until  opportunity  can 
be  equalized  we  shall  have  them;  the  college  must  bear  its  share  of 
responsibility  for  what  they  do  in  the  world. 

These  rich  boys  are  as  a rule  nice  boys  and  many  of  them  will  become 
leaders  in  their  own  class  and  in  the  community.  The  luxury  to  which 
they  are  inured  at  home  does  not  especially  hurt  them  in  college.  The 
difficulty  is  twofold — they  set  false  standards  for  the  boys  who  are  not 
rich  and  they  do  not  themselves  profit  greatly  from  their  college  work 
and  life.  The  college  community  is  more  democratic  than  any  other; 
but  as  an  institution  increases  in  size  sets  are  formed,  and  the  rich  are 
segregated  in  dormitories,  clubs  and  fraternities.  They  enjoy  the  social 
life  which  the  idle  classes  maintain  after  reaching  years  of  discretion, 
and  are  turned  in  that  direction  rather  than  to  ideas  of  useful  work 
and  service.  They  do  not  see  the  use  of  the  college  courses,  but  study 
as  little  and  pay  their  coaches  as  much  as  may  be  necessary  to  pass  exam- 


THE  CASE  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


610 


inations.  The  president  of  a large  college  told  me  that  he  could  not 
consider  a certain  man  in  connection  with  the  chair  of  philosophy, 
because  he  was  said  to  have  leanings  toward  socialism  and  there  was  too 
much  of  that  kind  of  thing  among  the  students  already.  As  a matter 
of  fact,  this  president  probably  had  his  eyes  on  his  trustees  rather  than 
on  his  students,  and  there  is  altogether  too  little  enthusiasm  for  ideal 
ends — wise  or  foolish — among  our  college  students.  On  the  continent 
they  are  the  radicals  and  revolutionaries;  here  they  are  too  often  the 
premature  club  men. 

A class  endowed  by  the  public  can  only  be  tolerated  if  it  performs 
public  services.  Assuming  that  the  class  will  last  for  a time,  how  can 
it  be  taught  its  responsibilities?  Not  surely  by  the  Harvard  plan  of 
studying  a little  of  everything,  but  nothing  concerned  with  work  in  life. 
Even  professional  football  is  better  than  amateur  scholarship.  Your 
true  lover  is  no  amateur,  but  a professional  in  deadly  earnest.  Each 
boy  at  Harvard,  rich  or  poor,  should  have  some  end  to  which  he  devotes 
himself.  Those  who  do  not  care  for  scholarship  should  be  given  a 
chance  to  become  interested  in  business  or  politics  or  social  affairs,  or 
else  the  university  should  be  closed  to  them.  But  many  will  become 
absorbed  in  scholarly  work  if  given  a chance,  and  this  can  best  be  offered 
by  letting  them  do  serious  work  in  some  direction  and  leading  them  to 
associate  with  those  already  interested  in  such  work. 

The  plan  just  now  adopted  at  Harvard  of  establishing  residence 
halls  for  freshmen  traverses  all  that  I have  written.  Groups  of  the 
most  immature  students,  likely  to  be  classified  by  the  amount  they  are 
prepared  to  pay  for  rooms  and  board  and  the  schools  from  which  they 
come,  will  be  segregated,  required  to  study  a little  of  everything  under 
the  supervision  of  celibate  masters,  and  told  that  they  are  entering  on  a 
“ period  of  play.”  If,  as  is  said,  “ the  change  from  the  life  of  school 
to  that  of  college  is  too  abrupt  at  the  present  day,”  then  let  us  make  the 
schoolboy  more  of  a man,  not  the  college  student  less  of  a man.  The 
groups  in  college  should  be  formed  on  a plan  exactly  the  opposite  of 
that  proposed,  social,  local  and  age  distinctions  being  ignored,  and  the 
main  grouping  being  in  accordance  with  the  aptitudes  and  life  interests 
of  the  students.  The  ideal  is  the  zoological  hall  of  the  old  Harvard, 
where  apprentices  of  a great  man  and  a great  teacher  lived  together. 
This  is  told  of  again  in  the  charming  autobiography  of  Shaler.  A boy 
from  the  aristocratic  southern  classes,  with  ample  means  and  good 
abilities  but  no  fixed  interests,  fell  into  this  group.  There  he  discov- 
ered his  life  work  and  pursued  it  with  boundless  enthusiasm.  Nor  did 
the  fact  that  he  devoted  himself  exclusively  to  professional  work  in 
natural  history  in  college  prevent  him  from  writing  Elizabethan  plays 
in  his  old  age.  The  number  of  men  of  distinction  given  to  the  world 
from  this  small  Agassiz  group  is  truly  remarkable. 


61 1 THE  POPULAR  SCIENCE  MONTHLY 

The  president  of  Harvard  tells  us  that  the  engineering  student 
“ labors  without  a groan  on  mathematics,  which  most  college  under- 
graduates shun  like  a pestilence,”  and  most  curiously  he  holds  that  the 
engineering  student  gets  no  culture  from  his  mathematics,  while  the 
college  student  does,  and  must  by  force  be  exposed  to  the  pestilence  he 
shuns  unless  he  chooses  philosophy  as  the  milder  disease.  If  culture  is 
“ a little  knowledge  of  everything ” and  “ those  things  which  ordinarily 
educated  men  around  a dinner  table  are  expected  to  know  ” — to  quote 
again — it  has  little  more  real  significance  than  the  white  shirts  and 
black  coats  of  these  gentlemen.  But  surely  the  intangible  trait  that 
we  should  like  to  strengthen  by  our  education  is  almost  the  reverse  of 
this — something  that  makes  the  white  shirts  and  gossip  of  the  dinner 
table  insignificant,  seen  at  times  in  primitive  peoples,  in  seafaring  and 
farming  folk,  in  hereditary  nobles,  in  scholars — a certain  detachment 
from  the  here  and  now  and  the  narrower  self,  the  quality  of  greatness 
in  a man.  This  is  almost  unconcerned  with  any  kind  of  information, 
but  to  a limited  degree  comes  from  mastery  in  one’s  own  field,  from 
historical  perspective,  from  appreciation  of  the  forces  of  nature. 

There  are  three  things  that  the  university  would  do — represented  by 
the  college,  the  professional  schools  and  the  graduate  faculty.  Through 
the  college  it  would  give  men  broader  interests  and  wider  sympathies, 
through  the  professional  schools  it  would  teach  the  routine  methods  of 
practise,  through  the  graduate  faculty  it  would  improve  these  methods 
and  enlarge  our  knowledge.  But  while  the  partial  separation  of  these 
three  objects  in  the  university  has  a historical  explanation,  it  has  no 
real  justification.  Every  child  and  every  man  should  unite  continu- 
ously in  his  education  and  in  his  life  what  the  university  artificially 
separates — he  should  always  be  doing  and  learning  to  do  his  share  of 
the  world’s  work,  he  should  try  continuously  to  improve  the  methods 
of  doing  it,  and  he  should  learn  to  appreciate  the  work  of  others. 

In  our  actual  courses  we  can  not  do  much  more  than  teach  efficient 
methods  of  routine  work.  The  student  can  learn  to  do  something  in 
particular,  not  things  in  general.  Hence  our  professional  schools  are 
on  the  whole  more  successful  than  our  colleges  or  our  graduate  faculties. 
Routine  research  and  routine  scholarship  can  be  taught  in  the  graduate 
faculty,  which  is  at  present  essentially  a professional  school  for  univer- 
sity teachers.  For  original  research  and  productive  scholarship  we 
must  wait  for  the  man,  or  possibly  search  for  him,  give  him  a chance 
and  let  him  alone.  But  we  should  welcome  him  and  give  him  oppor- 
tunity in  whatever  department  of  the  university  he  may  be  found.  The 
right  way  to  give  a man  interests  that  are  broad  and  permanent  is 
not  to  put  him  in  elementary  courses  in  all  sorts  of  subjects,  but  to 
encourage  him  to  learn  to  do  well  his  work  in  life  and  to  connect  with 
this  by  natural  associations  the  larger  world  in  which  he  may  live. 


THE  CASE  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


612 

Fortunately  no  president  and  no  university  can  confine  culture  to  the 
college,  professional  work  to  the  professional  school  and  research  work 
to  the  graduate  school.  Each  will  be  found  everywhere  according  to 
the  measure  of  those  who  teach  and  those  who  learn. 

The  courses  intended  to  impart  “ a little  knowledge  of  everything  ” 
should,  we  are  informed,  be  lecture  courses  by  the  leading  men  in  the 
department  supplemented  by  drills  from  subordinates.  In  my  opinion 
this  is  exactly  the  wrong  use  of  lecture  courses.  Books  and  small  classes 
should  be  used  for  elementary  instruction.  Lectures  may  be  needed  for 
special  work  not  to  be  found  in  books  and  are  useful  as  emotional  exer- 
cises. When  used  for  the  latter  purpose,  the  student  should  not  be 
quizzed  or  examined  on  them,  but  can  properly  be  credited  toward  his 
degree  for  the  number  of  hours  he  sits  in  the  lecture  room. 

Futile  and  somewhat  anti-moral  is  the  plan  proposed  of  trying  to 
improve  scholarship  by  persuading  students  to  compete  for  class  rank. 
We  are  told  that  “ the  free  elective  system  in  college  has  reduced  the 
spirit  of  competition  in  scholarship  to  a minimum,”  and  that  “ there  is 
a close  analogy  between  outdoor  sports  and  those  indoor  studies  which 
are  pursued  for  intellectual  development,  especially  in  regard  to  the 
question  of  stimulus  by  competition.”  As  a matter  of  fact,  men  pull 
together  in  a boat  for  the  glory  of  their  college ; the  man  who  plays  for 
his  own  oar  or  hand  is  not  esteemed  there  or  elsewhere.  There  is  some 
excuse  for  the  student’s  opinion  that  “ C ” is  the  gentleman’s  grade. 
To  try  to  make  dull  and  profitless  work  interesting  by  competition  puts 
the  smell  before  the  automobile. 

This  does  not  mean  that  competition  is  not  a factor  of  immense 
importance  in  life;  or  that  it  is  out  of  place  in  the  university.  When 
the  best  men  graduating  from  the  medical  school  receive  the  hospital 
appointments,  and  the  best  men  in  the  engineering  school  find  big  jobs 
waiting  for  them,  it  is  a powerful  stimulus  to  good  work.  When  the 
first  and  second  wranglers  at  Cambridge  have  been  assured  of  fellow- 
ships which  may  be  worth  $50,000,  the  attainment  has  been  eagerly 
sought  and  highly  honored.  It  should  be  noted,  however,  that  Cam- 
bridge has  this  year  abandoned  the  ranking  in  the  mathematical  tripos, 
because  it  was  regarded  as  on  the  whole  injurious  to  scholarship.  If 
the  men  who  do  the  best  scholarly  work  in  college  are  properly  rewarded 
for  it  during  their  course,  on  graduation  and  in  after  life,  their  scholar- 
ship will  be  respected  even  by  those  who  are  not  scholars. 

A proper  way  to  encourage  students  to  do  good  work  is  to  credit 
them  for  the  quality  of  their  work  as  well  as  for  the  number  of  hours 
of  class  work  which  they  attend.  The  Harvard  plan  of  letting  the 
same  number  of  courses  be  taken  either  in  three  or  in  four  years  does 
not  accomplish  this.  The  student  may  do  work  of  the  same  amount 
and  quality  in  a year  whether  he  attends  ten  or  thirty  hours  of  class 


6i3 


THE  POPULAR  SCIENCE  MONTHLY 


work.  But  if  the  points  for  the  degree  are  weighted  as  well  as  counted, 
the  able  student  or  the  diligent  student  will  make  more  rapid  progress. 
If  he  can  do  in  two  or  three  years  the  work  for  which  the  poorer  student 
requires  four  years,  there  is  no  reason  why  he  should  not  go  forward  to 
the  professional  or  graduate  school.  It  would  also  be  just  and  a proper 
stimulus  to  let  good  students  pay  lower  and  poor  students  higher  fees 
in  proportion  to  the  quality  of  their  work.  The  good  students  who 
profit  themselves  and  contribute  to  a better  spirit  in  the  institution 
should  receive  a larger  part  of  the  subsidy  contributed  for  college  educa- 
tion, while  the  students  who  learn  but  little  and  may  be  a public 
nuisance  should  not  be  supported  at  college  at  public  expense. 

But  the  best  reward  for  scholarly  work  is  adequate  recognition  of 
the  work  as  preparation  for  a career  in  life.  At  Columbia  University 
a man  takes  his  doctor’s  degree  at  the  average  age  of  27  years.  He  is 
fortunate  if  he  receives  immediately  an  instructorship  at  $1,000  a year ; 
the  increments  of  salary  are  $100  a year  for  ten  years,  so  that  at  the 
age  of  37  he  receives  a salary  of  $2,000.  In  a commercial  community 
the  imagination  is  not  stirred  by  such  figures.  The  university  is  a 
parasite  on  the  scholarly  impulse  instead  of  a stimulus  to  it. 

The  first  need  of  our  universities  and  colleges  is  great  men  for 
teachers.  In  order  that  the  best  men  may  be  drawn  to  the  academic 
career,  it  must  be  attractive  and  honorable.  The  professorship  was 
inherited  by  us  as  a high  office  which  is  now  being  lowered.  Professors 
and  scholars  are  not  sufficiently  free  or  sufficiently  well  paid,  so  there 
is  a lack  of  men  who  deserve  to  be  highly  rewarded,  and  we  are  in 
danger  of  sliding  down  the  lines  of  a vicious  spiral,  until  we  reach  the 
stage  where  the  professor  and  his  scholarship  are  not  respected  because 
they  are  not  respectable. 

I should  myself  prefer  to  see  the  salaries,  earnings  and  conveyings 
of  others  cut  down  rather  than  to  have  the  salaries  of  professors 
greatly  increased.  When  a criminal  lawyer — to  use  the  more  inclusive 
term  for  corporation  lawyer — receives  a single  fee  of  $800,000,  our 
civilization  is  obviously  complicated.  Every  professor  who  is  as  able 
as  this  lawyer  and  who  does  work  more  important  for  society  can  not 
be  paid  a million  dollars  a year.  But  neither  is  it  necessary  to  pay 
him  so  little  that  he  can  not  do  his  work  or  educate  his  children.  I 
recently  excused  myself  somewhat  awkwardly  for  not  greeting  promptly 
the  wife  of  a colleague  by  saying  that  men  could  not  be  expected  to 
recognize  women  because  they  changed  their  frocks.  She  replied: 
“ The  wives  of  professors  don’t.”  It  is  better  to  have  wit  than  frocks ; 
but  in  the  long  run  they  are  likely  to  be  found  together. 

The  first  step  of  a really  great  university  president  would  be  to 
refuse  to  accept  a larger  salary  than  is  paid  to  the  professors.  The 
second  step  would  be  to  make  himself  responsible  to  the  faculty  in- 


THE  CASE  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


614 


stead  of  holding  each  professor  responsible  to  him.  The  bureaucratic 
or  department-store  system  of  university  control  is  the  disease  which 
is  now  serious  and  may  become  fatal.  This  subjection  of  the  individual 
to  the  machinery  of  administration  and  to  the  rack  wage,  is  but  an 
invasion  of  the  university  by  methods  in  business  and  in  politics  from 
which  the  whole  country  suffers.  We  may  hope  that  it  is  only  a tempo- 
rary incident  in  the  growth  of  material  complexity  beyond  the  powers 
of  moral  and  intellectual  control,  and  that  man  may  soon  regain  his 
seat  in  the  saddle.  Certainly  Harvard  has  led  the  way.  It  has  adopted 
a scale  of  salaries  independent  of  superficial  supply  and  demand,  and 
has  placed  them  outside  the  influence  of  intrigue  and  favoritism.  The 
bureaucratic  system  is  less  dominant  than  elsewhere.  And  it  has  its 
reward;  for  I find  in  an  objective  study  of  the  distribution  of  the 
scientific  men  of  the  country  that  no  less  than  one  fifth  of  those  most 
eminent  are  here. 

It  has  been  said  more  than  once  that  the  college  is  in  danger  of 
being  crushed  between  the  upper  millstone  of  the  professional  school 
and  the  nether  millstone  of  the  secondary  school;  those  who  have  used 
this  simile  do  not  appear  to  realize  that  this  is  the  way  fine  flour  is 
made.  The  trouble  with  our  educational  system  is  that  the  college  has 
not  only  exploited  its  frivolous  amateurism  and  its  futile  scholasticism 
at  home,  but  it  has  imposed  them  on  the  high  school  and  even  on  the 
grades.  When  we  have  high  schools  fit  for  the  people  and  professional 
schools  of  the  right  sort,  the  college  will  be  molded  into  proper  shape. 

President  Lowell  closed  his  inaugural  address  with  the  words: 

It  is  said  that  if  the  temperature  of  the  ocean  were  raised,  the  water  would 
expand  until  the  floods  covered  the  dry  land;  and  if  we  can  increase  the  intel- 
lectual ambition  of  college  students,  the  whole  face  of  the  country  will  be 
changed.  When  the  young  men  shall  see  visions  the  dreams  of  old  men  will 
come  true. 

If  the  temperature  of  the  ocean  were  raised  sufficiently,  Cambridge 
and  its  university  would  be  submerged,  while  the  great  continent  with 
its  state  universities  would  stand  untouched.  But  if  the  intellectual 
ambition  is  sound  and  the  visions  are  sane  Harvard  College  can  be 
saved. 

I trust  that  I have  not  exceeded  the  privileges  proper  to  a guest  or 
the  freedom  allowed  by  an  after-dinner  address.  Those  men  and  those 
institutions  which  are  too  great  for  compliment  are  still  subject  to 
honest  criticism.  It  would  be  impertinent  for  me  to  praise  Harvard 
University  and  its  leaders.  Harvard  stands  apart  from  and  above  all 
our  other  universities,  secure  in  its  past  and  in  its  future,  one  of  the 
great  contributions  made  by  America  to  the  civilization  of  the  world. 


